Proverbs 16:31 tells us, “Gray hair is a crown of glory; it is gained by living a godly life.” So why is hair dye such a huge industry? Could it be that youth has become an idol being worshipped in our nation today? Instead of honoring and embracing old age we do everything in our power to avoid or delay it. Like Ponce de Leon, everyone seems to be searching for a fountain of youth. That search for youth has no age limit. I remember last year when the oldest woman in the U.S. turned 114. In spite of her birth records she swore she was only 105. Distain for aging and the elderly has not always been so prevalent. There is an old English proverb, “The older the fiddle the sweeter the tune,” and poems compare people with fine wine getting better with age. In other parts of the world the elderly are still revered because they have so much experience and wisdom to share.
There are challenges that come with age. When someone says, “Age is just a number,” chances are pretty good that they haven’t turned 70. Those numbers begin taking a toll on even the healthiest bodies. At 74, my mind and spirit have remained young and active but I find myself limited by this old body. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not complaining. I could not even imagine the horror of dementia or Alzheimer’s disease. To be alive and have no memory of my life or those I love would cause unbearable confusion and torment. I not only cherish my memories I love to share them with others.
My love of storytelling comes from my grandfather on my mother’s side of the family. I have fond memories of sitting on the carpet at his feet as he shared stories of his life with one hand stroking his dog and a cigar in the other one. My parents’ eyes would roll as they listened to the same stories for the hundredth time, but there was always magic in each of them for me, even the familiar ones. He was a retired electrical engineer and my favorite story was about the life sized Santa he built. With the flick of a switch inside the front door the right hand with sleigh bells in it would wave, the head would slowly move and a recording would boom, “Ho. Ho. Ho. Merry Christmas!” My cousins and I used to listen for a car approaching on their country road and activate it as they drove by. He told how one of his former coworkers drove by and then spread the word at work the next day, “George Musgrave has lost his mind. He was out on his front porch dressed like Santa and waving at everyone driving by.” I laughed at that story but I also understood his sense of pride that his creation was so lifelike.
I love the stories God tells us in the Old Testament about His creation and His interaction with it; stories of good and evil, victory and defeat, joy and sadness, love and hate, obedience and disobedience. In the Gospels we read the stories Jesus loved to tell to illustrate his Father’s love for us and His desire for our love, worship and obedience in return. The New Testament is filled with firsthand experiences shared by those who first believed including their wise warnings and encouragements.
We miss so much in our prayer life when we leave God’s presence too soon without listening to everything He wants to tell us. Instead, let us sit at His feet and beg, “Father, tell me another story.”